


The Forever Factor

by Aelia_Gioia



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Art Gallery Sex, Cufflinks, M/M, Mice, New York City, POV First Person, Public Sex, Sequel, Sex Toys, Tuxedos, Vacation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-17
Updated: 2019-11-17
Packaged: 2021-02-07 16:03:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 21,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21460735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aelia_Gioia/pseuds/Aelia_Gioia
Summary: aka Mice 2Back by popular demand, the second and final installment of the Adventures of City Mouse and Country Mouse.If you haven't read The Mice Will Play... you might want to, just for context :)
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 27
Kudos: 47
Collections: Schitt's Creek Open Fic Night 2.0





	The Forever Factor

I don’t remember looking at the clock so I can’t be sure how long we slept. All I know is that when I did wake up, I was absolutely dehydrated, starving and we both smelled heavily of sweat, sex and tequila. I was curled up on my side a breath away from falling off the bed altogether. David always starfishes when he drinks tequila. When I commented on the pattern, he said it was probably because in his “old life” he would only drink tequila in beautiful, exotic locations where he would then proceed to pass out in a beach cabana. Apparently, his body reverts to that sense memory when he drinks it.

“Babe? Hey – City Mouse? David!” I attempted to inch towards the middle of the bed but his knee was almost right up against my ass. I reached back in a fruitless effort to wake him or push him over when his arm flailed and smacked me right in the face.

What made it worse was the impact of two of his engagement rings against the bridge of my nose. I cried out and dropped to the floor, landing hard on my knee.

“Ow! Fuck!” I rolled onto my back and pulled my knee into my chest with both hands, sucking air between my teeth.

When I looked up I saw David peering at me, meerkat-style over the bed. He was looking at me like I was crazy; like I’d made a conscious choice to tumble out of bed to the cold tile floor.

“You ok?”

“Mmhmm,” I groaned. I tried putting weight on my leg and I slipped on my discarded t-shirt and fell back down, this time on my tailbone. To add insult to injury, I hit my head on the nightstand.

David scrambled off the bed right to my side, looking like he didn’t know where to put his hands first.

“Patrick - what the fuck? Oh...shit...” A look of recognition flashed across his face. “The tequila.”

“The tequila,” I repeated while rubbing the sore spot on the back of my head.

His eyebrows came together sorrowfully and he tilted my chin up with his thumb.

“I’m so sorry, Country Mouse.” He kissed me softly and rubbed the tip of his nose against mine. 

I cupped his cheek and looked into his eyes. Sometimes they bubbled and boiled with lust, sometimes they looked so soft and sad, it broke my heart. This was one of the latter times. My fingers slid to the back of his head and I gently pulled him in for a deep kiss. A low moan rumbled in his throat when I worked his lips open with my tongue. 

“Tell me...” I took a deep breath and started sucking on his neck.

“Now?”

“Do it...tell me, City Mouse,” I whispered in his ear.

David chuckled to himself. He knew exactly what I meant. I wanted to hear the story.

“When I was 21…”

I’d heard it a million times before but it still did…things…to me when he repeated it. David pulled my hips toward him and my skin skidded across the slick high-polish tile, it burned. 

“I went to Vieques by myself to relax…”

Once I wasn’t scrunched up next to the bed anymore, I stretched out on the floor on my back.

“I was laying on a towel on _playa la chiva_…”

“The nude beach,” I offered and scratched my nails up and down his arm.

“The _clothing optional_ beach.”

“And I bet I can guess if my City Mouse took the option.”

“Because you’ve heard this before, Country Mouse,” David smirked. “I was naked with a hotel hand towel covering just my crotch.”

“It’d be terrible to get that sunburnt,” I joked. He twisted my nipple roughly. I yelped and slapped his hand away.

“Ugh,” he grunted. “I was avoiding getting tan lines. Am I telling this story, or you? Be a good boy…or I’ll stop.” He lowered his mouth to my chest and bit the other nipple, making me gasp.

“I’m sorry…” I raked my hand through his hair in a cheap attempt to push him closer to my cock, which was fully awake, almost fully erect, and aching for attention, but he’d only begun telling the story.

“I had coconut oil on my nose and my shoulders,”

“I love that smell,” I rolled my hips up. 

“I put my sun reflector down and lifted a mostly empty bottle of tequila to my lips.”

“That’s when you saw him…”

“That’s when I saw him,” David echoed. “Coming out of the water, onto the hot, soft, white sand.” I felt his thumbs running up from my knees, massaging my thighs. The tone of his voice lowered an octave and he moderated the cadence way down, as if he was trying to fuck me slowly with just his words.

“Andrés. Six foot three, with a dark tan, and messy black hair. A body chiseled by the Caribbean gods…”

His hands moved to the outside of my hips, completely ignoring my crotch. He squeezed my waist, pinning me down on the floor. I interlocked my fingers behind my head and chewed my lower lip. 

“He was wearing the tightest,” David licked my bottom lip.

“Tiniest,” he moved back to my neck and bit.

“White swim shorts.”

I moaned, momentarily feeling David’s cock brush up against mine. He very cruelly moved back to deprive me of the contact I was aching for. I wasn’t picturing a random, beefy, Puerto Rican beach bum in those white shorts but the thought of David wearing something like that…fucking hell. While I worked to force that image out of my head so I could focus on listening to him speak, David went on.

“They were practically see through.”

“And you really liked what you saw, didn’t you, City Mouse?” I lifted my hips, searching for something, any part of him, anything to give me some kind of friction but I couldn’t make contact.

“It made my fucking mouth water.” He whispered in my ear while pressing his weight down on top of me, his dripping cock brushed against mine again and I moaned. 

“More,” He knew I was asking for more friction. The devilish look on his face when he adjusted his position made me growl. He ground his hips against my thigh and continued talking.

“He grinned a little when he saw me and pushed his shaggy, wet hair from his forehead. I was practically catatonic; laying there frozen while getting roasted by the sun as he walked up to me.”

“And he said…”

“_¿Como estas?_”

David pushed up to a plank position, one arm on either side of me and slowly licked a thin line from the middle of my chest, up my neck, to the sensitive spot behind my ear.

“I told him I didn’t speak Spanish -”

My breath hitched in my throat as David sucked on my earlobe and teased the back of his hand against my dick.

“He shrugged and crouched down next to me. I knew for sure he could see how hard I was under the towel across my lap. His cock - god Patrick, it was there; right _fucking_ there, practically hanging out the leg of his shorts.”

I moaned in surprise when David let his fingers brush against my balls, then up my shaft. My brain practically liquefied in my skull when he swiped some of my precum on his pointer finger and sucked it off.

“Mmm. You taste so good, Baby.”

“Keep going…” It was all I could do to keep from rolling on top of him and fucking him into the floor; into oblivion, without any prep. This Andrés might have fucked my fiancé before me, but I needed to remind David who was fucking him now.

“He took the bottle of tequila out of my hand and drank it all in one, long gulp.” David suddenly straddled my chest and my hands immediately grasped his ass as he started to rock on me. I reached around him and teased his hole with my fingers. 

David tossed his head back when I stroked the pad of my finger against his entrance. I did it so softly, so gently, trying to make him beg. He looked back down at me and I saw the wavering confidence in his eyes.

“What happened next, David?” I enjoyed the brief moments of having him at a disadvantage. 

“He pulled the towel away. His eyes widened when he saw me bare.”

“I’m not surprised. You have a beautiful cock, Babe.”

“Mmm, Andrés thought so, too.” David licked the corner of his mouth suggestively. 

He was saying the name with a perfectly fluent rolled “R" sound.

“I’ll just bet he did.” I sucked on two of my fingers trying to get them wet enough for him but I was so dehydrated. I was doing my best but David saw me struggling. He took my wrist in his hand and slid my fingers into his mouth; sucking and licking until I pulled my hand back. 

“Before I knew what was happening, his hand was wrapped around my cock and he stroked it slowly, pulsing his fist, just the way I like it.” 

“Fuuuck.” That’s where I’d picked up that particular trick, the first time I’d heard the story. 

_Thanks Andrés_.

“His hand felt so good, Patrick…” David rolled his head back and groaned when I pushed one finger inside him.

“What else happened?” I concentrated on feeling him clenching around my finger.

“He got on his knees and – fuck -"

I grinned, letting a second finger join the first. David bucked a little, his mouth opened wide but only a choked sound eked out. 

“You were saying, City Mouse?”

“I watched him while he stroked my cock. Then he licked his lips and before I knew what was even happening -" 

He gasped again. I was attempting to fit a third finger inside him but was having a bit of trouble with the angle.

“He – he started sucking me off…Fuck Patrick, that feels so good, Baby,” David whined and started to rock back into my fingers.

“That’s not all he did, was it?”

Momentarily unable to speak, David shook his head violently from side to side, his hair flapping around wildly.

“What else did he do?” I licked my free hand, loosely wrapped it around his cock and I swear he very nearly came all over my face. It wouldn't have been the first time, but I had other plans for him. I squeezed the root firmly, he wasn’t going to cum until I was good and ready to let him.

“He…fuck…he…stopped. He stopped everything. He kneeled up and pulled on the chord holding his swim shorts closed. And oh my god Patrick I wish you could have seen this massive uncut thing…”

_Note to self: Fuck David as brutally as possible. He wants it. He’s filling in all the little details he usually skips over_.

“Did you hesitate?” He was getting used to my fingers, his body started to relax and obey my touch. I scissored my fingers apart.

“No. I didn't at all. I yanked his shorts past his ass and got as much of him into my mouth as I could. It hit the back of my throat and I swallowed around the head.”

“Fuck,” I moaned. “Get on your knees, David.”

I pulled my fingers free of him and he swung his leg over me to get into position. I massaged both hands into the flesh of his ass and his back arched. 

“You're not done yet,“ I reminded him. I teased my finger down his ass and pushed his cheeks apart a little. I forced my thumb into his greedy orifice and stroked the skin behind his balls with my middle finger. David groaned low and slow.

“Uh…uh…he held my shoulders and…and he…” David’s voice faltered. “He fucked my throat. Hard. My jaw ached and my eyes watered and I almost came right then and there.”

I lowered my mouth to his skin and licked just over the hole clenching around my thumb. He shuddered when I committed to eating him out. I moved my thumb out of the way and grabbed hold of his hips so I could fuck him with my tongue and he couldn’t wiggle away. 

David let out a guttural ‘uuuugh' and I worked up enough saliva to spit on him and flicked my tongue against his asshole that was now open just enough, but I needed the end of the story. He still tasted like me from the night before. I paused just long enough to lean back and prompt him to continue. 

“There’s more. Go on.”

“Patrick…” he whined. The sound of him whining, begging to be fucked makes my balls ache in the best possible way.

“I'll stop if you don't finish,” I threatened. 

“He…he…pulled out of my mouth. I pulled a condom out of my beach bag.”

“Always prepared, eh?” I teased but he ignored me.

“I...fuck...I put the condom on him with my mouth...”

“Jesus...”

“...and he got on top of me.”

“And you hated that…” I reached my hand between his legs and started jerking him off.

“No, I loved it, I wanted him to fuck me the second I saw him.” His voice hitched in his throat; he was close.

I twisted at the waist quickly and opened the nightstand drawer. Our artisanal lube was the only thing in the drawer besides the Gideon Bible. Two strokes of my hand on my thoroughly impatient cock to spread the lube and I buried myself balls deep into David in one go. He moaned as hard and as loud as I’ve ever heard him and even pounded a fist on the floor.

“Come on, Baby…be a good boy for Daddy. Tell me the rest. What did he put on his cock so he didn’t rip this gorgeous, tight ass to pieces?”

He was whining loudly and I rewarded the volume by pumping into him harder and harder. I scratched my nails up his thigh and spanked his ass with enough force to leave a red mark. David was rhythmically grunting and gasping for air.

“My - my...he used...he used my coconut oil...he…he…oh fuuuck…” 

David fell forward with the force of his orgasm and bucked back into me with five aftershocks. I spanked him again and snapped my hips viciously. The wet slap of skin on skin was almost louder than David’s cries of passion.

“You put your legs over his shoulders and let him fuck you, didn’t you? You are such a fucking cumslut, David. It felt so good, didn’t it?”

“Yes! Patrick! Fuck yes!”

I was surprised when he came again, it only happened occasionally. I slowed down my pace a little, I knew he’d be getting sensitive quickly. Luckily for me, I didn't have far to go. Two final pumps of my hips and I filled David’s ass with the hottest, stickiest, and probably biggest load I’d ever given him. I came so hard, my stomach muscles started spasming and my vision blurred.

Still shaking, I pulled back and curled up on the floor. David was practically boneless and he let his hips fall the opposite way so that we were facing each other. He reached a trembling hand out to me and I interlaced our fingers. After taking a deep breath, I noticed the impressive puddle of cum on the tiles between us. I popped an eyebrow and smirked.

“You gonna clean that up, or am I?”

Fire flashed in David’s eyes and he lifted his chin, indicating I could do it, which is what I wanted anyways. I shifted closer and touched my tongue to the puddle. The taste was thoroughly and completely David. 

I looked up at him through my lashes and winked before I made a circle with my lips and sucked up the entire cumshot, licking the white tile clean.

When I sat up and wiped my mouth on the back of my hand, David was grinning at me. 

“_Wepa_,” I said simply and winked at him with a shrug. I leaned down and kissed him, while he lazily twirled a bit of my hair around his fingers and chuckling. 

“You get a real kick out of yourself, huh _Daddy_?” David teased. I nodded. The word which had majorly embarrassed me the night before was from then on out firmly cemented in our sexual repertoire. I didn’t know why, but it turned me on to say it so when the mood struck, goddamn it, I was going to say it. 

“I don’t know why you like that story so much,” he tucked a hand under his head.

“Maybe someday, I’ll ask my analyst what that says about me,” I joked. I was absolutely _never_ going to tell my shrink about any of this. 

“Does that mean you want to go to Puerto Rico for the honeymoon?” David raised an eyebrow, I laughed.

“So that we can fucking bump into Andrés in San Juan? That’s a real quick no." We laughed together and David pulled me by the arm down to be his little spoon. He kissed my hairline.

“He actually turned out to be a really nice guy. He spoke enough English and I picked up a little Spanish. We went to dinner a couple of times before I left. And he took me dancing. Salsa.”

“Oh, that's where you got that from?” I’d never actually asked how David learned how to move like he does on a dance floor. I guess I just assumed he watched _Selena_ on repeat.

“I knew a bit beforehand. Andrés helped me…” he looked up, searching for the right word.

“Perfect it?” I offered as I flipped to my other side. David smiled and agreed with me.

“Where do you want to go? We’ve got time but we haven’t really talked about it,” David stretched his arms over his head.

I shrugged; I knew I wanted to go somewhere David hadn’t been before and that ruled out a significant portion of the world. I hadn’t really been anywhere at that point and I knew David would be excited to show me around any one of his favorite cities. For our honeymoon though, I had my heart set on discovering somewhere brand new together.

Sighing, I looked at him. I might have, at one point in time, been apprehensive about my lack of experience, especially compared to David’s wealth of experience; but I knew he was mine. This smoldering hot, perfect creature was going to be my husband; for keeps and forever. David found little ways to show me every day that regardless of the people in his past, he loved me and only me. Once I was secure in that knowledge, I realized how much it turned me on to hear about David’s sexual history.  
We were both in need of a shower but neither of us had the strength or desire to actually get up from the floor.

David regained his strength before I did and helped me to my feet. I cringed a little when I first put weight on my leg and he steadied me with his hands on my waist.

“How’s your knee?”

“It’s fine, Babe. Thanks.”

“I wish I didn’t do that whole -” He moved his feet apart, widening his stance and stretched his arms out imitating how he was sleeping. “I swear, I don’t do it on purpose.”

“I know, David. It’s ok.” A wicked thought popped into my head and I grinned to myself. David has very attuned ‘Patrick is contemplating sexual shenanigans’ radar, so he asked me what I was thinking about.

“Oh, nothing,” I said coyly. I walked by him to the bathroom. After flicking the light, I turned and met his eyes.

“I only thought, next time you drink tequila, I’ll just have to hog-tie you.” I smirked and left him standing by the bed his mouth agape.

I turned the knob all the way over to H and held my hand under the spray of water as the LEDs glowed bright red. It felt like my skin was being seared off but my muscles were aching from all the walking and all the fucking. I turned my back to the water and let it hit my shoulders. I slid the glass door shut and proceeded with my usual predictable showering routine; start with my hair and work my way down.

I didn’t hear the door open.

As many times as David told me not to use my face, hair, and body wash (those are for CHILDREN, Patrick!) I still did, 87% to annoy him. I worked the wash into my scalp with my fingertips and rubbed some of the lather into my face and neck. I turned into the stream of water and as I rinsed the suds away, I saw his mottled outline through the foggy shower door.

My heart leapt and I felt a rush of adrenaline from the surprise of seeing him there. With a calm smirk on my face, I finished rinsing off and playfully drew a heart in the condensation on the door. David put a palm flat against the glass and I leaned forward and kissed the center of the heart leaving both an outline of my lips and the very tip of my nose. I pulled the door open and smiled at David. I jerked my head to the side indicating that I wanted him to join me. I stepped back to let him in. 

Later, we stood side by side at the double sinks brushing our teeth. While I shaved, David laid out all of his facial products. We had been living together for a while so I was familiar with his routine, though I hadn’t really observed it attentively before. I asked him impatiently once if he really needed to do all of that (we were running late to meet a new vendor for breakfast). David tsked at me and replied.

“I’m actually 105 years old but you’d never guess because these products keep me looking young.”

I laughed and called him Nosferatu and he slammed the bathroom door in my face. We made it to the meeting on time but David needed extra strawberries and whipped cream on his waffles before successfully closing the deal.

There was the pearlescent low pH cleanser he used in the shower. Then, while his hair products set, he swiped over his face and neck with a reusable pad soaked in the alcohol-free, rosewater toner we sold at the store. I closed my eyes and inhaled the light scent of roses. 

When I first started working with David, I’d smell that scent every time he’d scramble dramatically into the store a half–hour late and rush past me to the back room to put his bag down. It happened so regularly I’d begun to suspect that the man actually smelled like roses. 

He’d spray himself with cologne before coming out of the back room. The scent of it made my hormones do acrobatics but never as much as that soft aroma of rose petals. After we started dating, I would do anything I could to prevent him from going into the back room in the morning. I chased the smell of roses on his skin. 

After the toner, came the serum with glycolic acid (I had to Google it) and the konjac sponge (had to Google that as well). He finished it up with the vitamin C and retinoid (Googled that too) under eye serum. Once a week, he used one of those terrifying pore strips (terrifying because I used one once out of curiosity and – no, I’m never going to do that again). Every other day he put on this weird, green clay mask at night but I timed my after-dinner run to coincide with it. It wasn’t gross or anything but David couldn’t move his face when it dried. It made me giggle when he tried to talk and he got mad, which would only make me laugh more.

I dawdled in the bathroom as long as I could while he finished but I figured I should get dressed. He came out 10 minutes later and I was sitting on the balcony, looking out at the city skyline. 

“Patrick, what are your thoughts on food?” He was wrapped in the plush black robe Stevie gave him at our engagement party. His initials, well, his future initials were embroidered in white. She gave me a matching robe in white with my future initials embroidered in black. Officially, that was the extent of our gift from Stevie; the thoughtful and practical gift that our guests admired. The $50 gift certificates to Lovehoney in each pocket of both robes were the real gift and we’d made quick use of them. I bought a few things (including the lingerie I’d worn to the club) and David bought a few things. We were going to surprise each other a little at a time. Stevie earned her status in our wedding party; she was the MVP.  
I stretched my arms over my head and twisted at the waist, feeling my spine pop when I stood from my seat. David’s eyebrows reacted a few seconds before the rest of his face, he looked almost offended.

“Something wrong, City Mouse?”

He swallowed and blinked his eyes, as if he was trying to adjust to staring into the sun.

“Um...David?”

“Jorts, Patrick? Seriously?”

I looked down and laughed. Yes, I in fact was wearing jean shorts. Grinning, I raised an eyebrow at him.

“Oh, should I change into my cargo shorts instead?”

“NO!”

“Ok then.” I approached him and put my arms around his waist, pulling him closer to kiss his cheek. Both of his palms were flat on my chest.

“I’m going to wear the Birkenstocks today. Just thought I’d prepare you now. What? We’re on vacation. It’s August, David.” 

“I’m marrying a 31-year-old frat boy,” David groaned, faking disdain.

“Oh yeah? Is he hot?” I teased him.

“Mmm. Mm-hmm. Very.” 

“Lucky you.” I felt him smile against my lips when I kissed him again.

David called down to the concierge and asked for a restaurant recommendation.

“What do we feel like having?” He was repeating the question he’d been asked but he was looking at me for an answer. I shrugged with my hands up, leaving the decision up to David. He nodded his head and spoke into the receiver.

“I cannot stress this enough: Carbs. Pasta. Bread. Pizza. More pasta,” he said into the phone. He listened and grabbed a pen and hotel stationery on the desktop next to the phone.

“Trattoria...ok...got it. Thank you.” He hung up and ordered our Uber. He looked up at me and furrowed his brows. He sucked on his upper lip. As well as I knew him, I could tell he was trying to find a tactful way of saying something. I sighed.

“OK. City Mouse. You win. I’ll change.” I was pretending to be annoyed as I went to my side of the dresser. He stopped me, gently took my wrist and slipped his other hand around my waist from behind. I felt him press his lips to my shoulder over my shirt.

“Can you put on the...”

“Dark jeans. I know.” I turned around and his arms went around my neck. 

“Are you wearing underwear?”

I cocked my head. “Um...yes?”

“Could you change into different boxers?”

“David -”

“I bought you some that’ll look really nice on you. Indulge me.” He smirked.

I exhaled and chuckled softly. “Fine.”

“I love you,” he kissed me.

“I love you, too. Even though you hate my clothes.”

“I don’t hate your clothes. I just thought you might be more comfortable in those jeans at the gallery later.”

“Oh, right. I forgot that’s tonight.” There was some exhibit opening that David got us tickets for.

Somewhere between the open bar and knowing how passionate David gets about art, I was convinced that it would be fun.

“Can I still wear the Birkenstocks?” I raised an eyebrow.

“I’m going to burn those Birkenstocks,” he deadpanned. I laughed and kissed him again. He fished into his suitcase and tossed a pair of black boxer briefs at me. They didn’t look any different from what I had been wearing for years but they felt a bit softer. When I pulled them on, I saw my reflection in the mirror and took a sharp intake of breath.

“Jesus...” I’m a modest guy but these things made my cock look huge. They were a lot more...supportive than my usual brand. The seams ran down the buttoned front and underneath me, then back up around my ass.

“They look...nice on you, Country Mouse.” He tilted his head, admiring me and making me blush all over.

I began to change into the jeans that were just tight enough on my tree trunk-like legs and got slightly distracted watching David dress. He slithered into jeans that redefined the word “tight” - they were practically painted on him and they hugged every curve. He checked his peripheral view to see if I was watching (I was way too quick for him, he didn’t catch me). He poked at the slightest little belly bulge on either side of his navel and my heart twisted. About a month earlier, he complained about wedding stress making him gain a little weight and I’d made the mistake of joking that there was more of him to love. He didn’t speak to me for a day and a half.

He sighed and pulled on a somewhat oversized button-down shirt. The background was white with a print of black and white photo close ups of lips all over it. He left the top three buttons undone (very unusual for him) and pulled a couple of silver necklaces with charms on them over his head. I watched him adjust the collar and tuck in the shirt on only one side. He smoothed his hands over his hair, making sure every last ebony strand was in place. He completed the look with a carefully curated pair of dark sunglasses, which he tucked into the deep v of his shirt.

He saw my reflection looking at him in the mirror and I realized I was standing there in my boxers with my jeans in my hands. I smiled shyly, admitting that I was caught. I stepped into my jeans and did them up. My oxfords were worn in after the previous night so they were much more comfortable when I tied the laces; though I really wanted to wear the sandals.

“Do I have to change my shirt?” I gestured to the dark blue button down I was wearing and he shook his head. I nodded and rolled the sleeves up my forearms. 

“That looks so much better,” he smiled and I couldn’t help but smile back. 

I know I have a simple clothing aesthetic. Very simple. It was practically a uniform by the time I turned 25. I worked in an office and didn’t have any reason to explore men’s fashions. To be honest, I didn’t care much about it. When Rachel tried getting me to try something new, some new style, I resented it. I didn’t feel that way when David made suggestions about what would look good on me.

Maybe it was because he knew what he was talking about and maybe it had more to do with how goddamned good he looked in everything and I didn’t want to look like a yawn personified next to him.

For whatever reason, while I pretended not to like it, I enjoyed when David fussed over me like that. 

I took his hand and pulled him close to me. I hope the thrill I feel every time David's that close to me never goes away. He smiled and we kissed softly.

"Patrick did you...did you use my deodorant?"

I cocked my head, feeling the romance leave us both. "Yeah, why?"

David pursed his lips. "No, nothing. It's fine. Do you not...have yours?"

I pressed my lips together, trying not to let the question bother me. "I ran out. Is there a problem?"

"No but let's find your brand when we're out today. I, um, I like that smell on you. A lot." He bit his lip and I chuckled.

"Ok. That's a deal."

He spritzed something across his chest and checked his phone.

“Ooh, car’s almost here. You ready, Country Mouse?”

I nodded and double-checked that the room key was in my wallet before I followed David out of the room.

I couldn’t help myself when we got in the car. I pressed up against the window, looking out at the city. The car went over a bump that I hoped wasn’t a pedestrian and I hit my head on the glass. I sat back rubbing my temple and saw David grinning.

“Can we pretend that didn’t happen before you lose all respect for me?”

He laughed and put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me back into the soft leather seat.

“I think it’s sweet. You’re excited.”

“Ok, you make me sound like a golden retriever, David.” He laughed again and kissed me.

“I love being here with you, Country Mouse.”

I held my hand out to David to help him get out of the car when we pulled up in front of the restaurant. It didn’t look like much but I’d learned the night before not to judge any establishment from the outside. We held hands as we followed the hostess to a circular booth against the back wall, facing the busy dining room. The place smelled amazing, different scents drawing my attention as we walked. 

A perky blonde server named Tina brought us some water and a basket of warm, crusty bread and soft seasoned butter. David attacked the basket immediately and even buttered a piece of the bread for me. Tina had a southern American accent and I got the impression that she was what David called a “Slash New Yorker”. She was probably a Server - _slash_ \- Actor, a Server - _slash_ \- Singer or possibly a Server - _slash_ \- Model. 

“Kin I git ch’all somethin’ else to drink while you decide?” She held a blue Bic pen in her left hand, waiting for us to order.

“Vodka soda for him and I’ll have...” I glanced quickly at the wine list. “Glass of cabernet, please.”

She jotted down a quick note and smiled before leaving us to study the menu.

“Wow; bit different from the Café, huh Babe?”

“Just a little,” he replied without looking up. “Ok, I’ll just take the left side of the menu.”

I laughed. “Good, because I want the right side.”

I let my hand rest on the tablecloth and smiled to myself when David put his on top of mine. I let our fingers interlace and our thumbs caressed each other. We both looked up at the same time when Tina returned with our drinks.

“Aww, are y’all on yer honeymoon?” She crossed her arms over her stomach.

“Not yet,” David looked at me and scrunched his nose up.

“The wedding’s in the spring,” I told her and leaned in to kiss David.

“Well ain’t you two the sweetest thangs.” She sighed and put her hand over her heart.

David complimented her accent and we chit-chatted for a couple of minutes.

“Sorry, I’m jabberin’ n' jabberin’ on while y’all starve half to death. Did'ja decide? D’ya need more time?”

David looked at the menu quickly and ordered a wood-grilled pizza sampler appetizer and I asked for fig, gorgonzola and prosciutto bruschetta. 

“Oh, you picked two a’ my favorites!” Tina smiled writing our orders down. “Did’ja want to order entrees now or...”

I laughed and moved my hand from the table to squeeze David’s thigh as we turned our attention back to the single-page menu.

“All the pasta is handmade by our Executive Chef, Umberto. Ya cain’t go wrong with any a’ those.” She pointed to the pasta section of the menu with the capped end of her pen.

A spontaneous and adorably enthusiastic ‘Ooh!’ popped out of my fiancé’s mouth and he turned red, embarrassed. He rolled his lips inward. I chuckled and squeezed his leg again.

“We have to drive at least 45 minutes to get decent pasta back home. He’s excited.”

Tina’s shoulders shook with a good-natured laugh. She recommended a farfalle dish with three kinds of mushrooms and four kinds of cheese and a ravioli Bolognese.

“The ravioli sounds basic, but you’ll love it,” she assured us.

“Ok, I trust you.” I looked to David and he nodded his agreement.

Tina winked at us as she took our menus and left us to talk. We nursed our drinks and David told me about the exhibit we were going to see. I knew nothing about art in spite of being engaged to a veritable expert. David had nearly encyclopedic knowledge on the subject.

“It’s photography, collage, and performance. The artist is going to be developing prints in the center of the gallery.”

I knit my eyebrows together.

“David - I - correct me if I’m wrong – but, don’t pictures need to be developed in the dark? Like, in a darkroom?”

He laughed and sucked on an ice cube.

“Yes, that’s the performance part; and part of the collage. The prints don’t develop properly and the artist rips them into pieces for the collages.”

I paused, mid-sip.

“David. Are you telling me we’re going to be looking at a bunch of plain, white paper glued together and dripping with developing chemicals?”

He took a quick gulp of his drink and wiggled his hand side to side.

“Photo paper turns grey when it’s improperly exposed to light. There are going to be actual prints and they’re supposed to be breathtaking, but yeah. The artist went through a really rough period and the frustration of developing pictures in a bright room is how she’s working it out.”

Tina slid the rectangular plate with David’s appetizer in front of him and gave me mine second.

“Oh my god...” David closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

“Another glass of cab, hon?” She asked.

“Yes, please.”

“I’ll have one, too,” David said as she started to walk away.

“Ok, I’ll bring y’all the bottle."

Each of the three pizzas on David’s plate were about four inches in diameter and cut into four triangular pieces.

“I am really finding it difficult to resist the urge to take like, a million pictures of this before we eat,” David tapped the tabletop with his fingers.

“I told you you’re a Millennial,” I winked.

“I’m an Xennial, thanks very much,” he sassed me.

“Whatever you say. Your Instagram account says otherwise.”

David rolled his eyes playfully and picked up a piece of what appeared to be a margherita pizza. He moaned almost obscenely as he chewed and I echoed the sentiment when I took the first bite of my own appetizer.

“Holy fuck this is good,” I said with a hand covering my mouth. “David, try this.” I waited for him to swallow and I held the bruschetta to his lips for him to take. He made a decidedly happy face when he tried a bite. There was just a slight trace of the fig on his lip and I cleaned it off with a kiss. I couldn’t help myself.

While we continued eating we cuddled closely, pausing only to take a sip of wine or water, I ran my hand up and down David’s leg. He fed me a piece of blackberry, ricotta pizza with lemon zest on top and I gripped the innermost part of his thigh, my pinky quickly brushed against his dick before I moved my hand down to his knee. David jumped with surprise. He raised an eyebrow and looked at me sideways. I looked down at the table in an attempt to hide my grin.

“Holy fuck,” David groaned. 

I looked at him, confused. My hand hadn’t moved from his knee.

“Taste this. Put this in your mouth, right now – spit out what you’re chewing.”

I laughed and took a sip of water as I swallowed. I tasted the carpaccio pizza – raw, thin-sliced filet mignon, truffle oil, arugula and capers. 

“I don’t ever want to eat anything else,” I said, taking the rest of the piece out of David’s hand and relishing each bite.

We’d polished off the bottle of Cabernet by the time Tina returned later to take our plates.

“What’d y’all think?”

“Amazing. The best thing I’ve ever tasted. God, I fucking miss New York,” David smiled at her. 

“Be right back with your entrees,” she winked.

“Oh shit – I forgot those were just the appetizers,” I laughed. “Another bottle of Cabernet, too please.”

“I’ll bring ya somethin' that’ll pair with the pasta better – how’s that sound?”

David and I looked at each other and back to Tina.

“Tina, you're our Sherpa today, guide us well,” David steepled his hands together and bowed. She chuckled sweetly and copied his hands.

“Well, Namaste to you, too.” 

The handmade pasta dishes were just as good and even though we thought we were both already stuffed to the gills with the pizzas and bruschetta, we practically licked our plates clean. The wines Tina brought us couldn’t have been more perfect. I kept my hand on David’s leg while we ate and we talked about what time we needed to leave the next day to get to our appointment at the tux shop in the morning. 

I kneaded my fingers into his flesh and we weren’t making eye contact. I made no effort to disguise my endgame. He’d fucked me in public at the club the night before, I was aching to return the favor.   
At least a sneaky hand-job.

We finished our entrees and as soon as David rested his fork in his plate, I turned his cheek to face me and gently held the back of his head in one hand, pulling him in for a long kiss, our tongues probing each other’s mouths.

I was grateful for the tablecloth that touched the floor on all sides of our round table and I was grateful for the low-lighting in the restaurant. Both factors allowed my other hand to cup David’s crotch under the table, varying pressure and speed in order to get him as hot and bothered as possible.

I felt someone standing near the table and I pulled away from the kiss to look up at Tina.

“Sorry to interrupt,” she blushed. “Congratulations on y’alls engagement. This's on me.” She cleared our dinner plates and handed us a slice of cake with two forks.

“Thanks!” David called after her.

I slowed down my hand under the table, but didn’t stop toying with him. David refused to acknowledge it but the way he was squirming was all the evidence I needed to know how turned on he was (as if the rock-hard cock pressing through his pants into my palm wasn’t enough).

His phone buzzed as we were finishing off what was quite simply the most decadent raspberry mascarpone cake I’d ever encountered.

“I want to fucking live in this cheesecake,” David remarked. “I’ll visit the pizzas and pastas on the weekends but forward my mail right here.” He scooped up the remains of the raspberry sauce with the edge of his fork, closed his eyes and inhaled, satisfied.

“You’ve got something on your lip, Country Mouse.” I let my tongue dart out of my mouth quickly and tasted a bit of the graham cracker crust. I squeezed his cock tightly over his pants, teasing one finger at his zipper. His fork clattered to the table when he grabbed both sides of my neck and kissed me greedily. 

I took a quick glance out of my peripheral vision and didn’t see anyone looking our way. I glared at David through my lashes while I unbuttoned and unzipped his pants, forcing my hand inside. He swallowed hard and his chest started heaving while I sucked on his neck. I roughly jerked his cock, the silken skin wet with free flowing precum slid easily through my fist. He made quiet whimpering noises and pulled on my shirtsleeve as I sped up. 

“Oh fuck Patrick.” His hot, breathy whine was such a turn on. He started rocking his hips into my hand and I watched the flush rise up from under his shirt. 

“You’re close, aren’t you?” I whispered darkly, letting my tongue dip into his ear.

“Mmhmm.”

“Should I allow you to cum? Should I stop right now and let you suffer?”

His eyes grew wide with desperation; it hadn’t crossed his mind that I might not let him get off. He squeezed his eyes closed and his lips parted a little bit with a quiet moan.

“I’m just teasing, David.” Looking around again, I lifted the tablecloth and tucked my head under it. He typically lasts a lot longer but I’d only started sucking on the head of David’s cock, he snapped his hips twice and I tasted him on my tongue. A noise just above my head indicated that he may have slapped a palm on the table as he came. I heard his phone buzzing while I was wiping my mouth on the table cloth, I gently kissed his softening cock and tucked David back into his pants.

David tapped my shoulder, letting me know it was safe to come out from under the table. We smirked sideways at each other and David used his napkin to blot at his temples and the back of his neck. Feeling a little exposed and slightly guilty, I saw the black faux leather folder containing our bill on the table; I knew it hadn’t been there a minute ago. I realized that Tina must have come to the table while I was blowing David; I turned red but sat up slightly taller in my seat. His phone buzzed again.

“Who is texting you? Your other boyfriend? Are you late for a hot date?” I was mostly kidding but slightly irritated that someone had called three times in only a few minutes. If it were something important; something wrong back home for instance, Alexis, Stevie or Mr. Rose would have called me after David didn’t reply the first time.

He flipped his phone face up and looked at the missed call log.

“Oh, it was Guy.”

“What guy?”

David tsked patiently.

“No, his name is Guy. My...friend?” The question mark was implied by his tone. “He got us the tickets to the exhibit opening gala. He’s an associate curator or something at the gallery.”

“Oh. ‘K.”

“Something wrong?” He raised an eyebrow and finished tapping out a texted reply.

“Nope. Just...how...close a friend are we talking here?” I drummed my fingers on the table.

David laughed, understanding what I was really asking.

“Would that be a problem? I thought you liked hearing about men I’ve slept with.”

“I do. I like hearing about it, in the context of foreplay before I fuck you.”

Tina made the unfortunate error of coming to take our dessert plate from the table as the words were leaving my mouth. I grimaced as her eyes bulged and the friendly, sweet smile vanished and she retreated from our table without a word.

“Ok, so, as much as I’d love to torture you about this – Guy is just...a guy. I knew him vaguely when I lived here. We were at a few of the same industry functions, we knew a lot of the same people. We never had a thing. No sex, no nothing. I e-mailed him when I found out about the exhibit opening while we were here and asked if he could swing a couple of tickets for us.”

I nodded, of course I believed him.

“And for the record, I wasn’t attracted to him. At all.”  
I smirked at that last part; he knew that’s what I needed to hear. David telling me about past conquests and times he’d been conquered was one thing – meeting one of them was something completely different.

I reached into my back pocket for my wallet and handed David my debit card.

“Don’t tell me what this cost. I don’t want to know.”

He nodded and peeked at the bill inside the folder, slipping my card into the pocket. He looked around and caught Tina’s eye. I saw her wave at him and she held up a finger to mean ‘wait a second’.

David signed my name to the bill a few minutes later and left a generous tip for her. We stepped back outside and the sun was hanging low in the sky. 

“Can we walk for a bit? I think I’ll fall asleep if I sit in another Uber right now.” David linked his arm with mine and I let him choose the direction of our stroll.  
David paused to get his bearings at a cross street and we turned onto Central Park West, the park was on my right and the numbered cross streets were going up. 

I got an ominous chill around 72nd street but I couldn't understand why. I cleared my throat and rolled my shoulders back uncomfortably. 

“I was wondering if you'd feel it. I thought you would,” David said. 

“Feel what, City Mouse?”

David lifted his chin towards a building that stuck out like a sore thumb and just looking at it made me queasy. 

“It's The Dakota.”

“Oh shit, that's it?” It took me a second to recall where I'd heard if it before. The setting for _Rosemary’s Baby_, one of my all-time favorite scary movies, and the spot where one of my music heroes had been killed in cold blood. I’m not superstitious but to quote Michael Scott from The Office, ‘I am a little stitious.’

“Mmhmm. In a city full of old buildings, that one really creeps me out. I’ve been invited to parties there and only went once. I just felt really uneasy inside, like something was watching me. I don’t want to say it was a ghost but...yeah. I never went back. One and done.” 

We slowed down as we walked by, David averted his eyes. Even though I didn't like looking at it, I found myself transfixed by it. The building has too many sharp-looking pitched gables, dormers, and spindles; it looks like it’s stabbing at the sky; an iron railing decorated with sea dragons and heads of Poseidon holds passersby at bay. It’s another one of those New York things that’s hard to understand until you’ve been there and the eerie feeling I got just from walking by is almost impossible to accurately describe. I cleared my throat and pulled David by his arm past the off-putting, if still highly exclusive and sought after, gothic apartment building. 

“It’s still far away and it's on the other side of the park, Patrick. Are you ok to walk?”

It was a significantly cooler night than the previous one and we had eaten enough for an army. I made a fist and flicked my wrist up and down, then with my fingers spread out, I touched my thumb to my breastbone and moved it forward in a quick, jerking motion; sign language for ‘Yes, I’m fine.’ 

I’d gotten sort of stir-crazy in my first few months in Schitt’s Creek before I met David; I took an online course to pass the time and a few signs had worked their way into my daily mannerisms.

“I'm cool, let's keep going.”

Nearly ten blocks past the Dakota, we turned into Central Park. We were still decidedly far from our final destination but the park was beautiful. We walked arm in arm, talked and laughed. When we were about halfway through, it was getting darker and fewer people were around so it was quiet; you’d never guess that we were in one of the most densely populated cities in the world. As we continued our stroll, a huge stone monument seemed to come out of nowhere.

“What the...?” I looked to David. 

“Oh, Cleopatra’s Needle. I keep forgetting to be a good tour guide.”

He pulled me onto a different walking path, a detour that would take us closer to the ancient Egyptian obelisk, my mouth fell open a little looking at the anachronistic structure in front of us. It was even taller than it looked when we got closer to it. A bronze plaque gave a rough (very rough) translation of the hieroglyphs carved into it so many thousands of years ago. It made me feel pretty small. Pretty insignificant. I must have been ogling it a little too long because David took my hand.

“Come on, Country Mouse. There’s still a long way to go.” He tugged at my arm and I followed obediently.   
I kept looking over my shoulder and eventually I couldn’t see the obelisk anymore. I heard David chuckle at me and I blushed.

“Jesus. You’d think I’ve never been outside of Ontario before,” I laughed at myself.

“It’s cute.” David shrugged.

“Cute. Great. You’re taking your cute golden retriever for a walk through the park. Maybe you'll give me a bone next.”

The words came out before I caught the double entendre. David stopped dead in his tracks and looked at me with his head tilted.

“Maybe I will,” he smirked.

I thought for a second, realized what I’d said and we were both laughing. He wrapped his arms around my neck and I slipped my palms under his shirt at the small of his back. He kissed me while I scraped my nails up and down gently on either side of his spine.  
I felt his tongue against my teeth and let a little moan escape. I yanked him closer into my chest and lifted one of his legs up over my hip – not exactly an easy feat considering how tight his pants were. 

I tilted his chin aside and attacked his neck with my teeth, he gasped and I felt his nails against my scalp.

“I can’t believe you sucked my cock at that restaurant – that was so fucking hot...” 

He grabbed both sides of my face and crushed our lips together. 

“How bad do you want to go to this thing, David? Because I could be persuaded to fuck you here and now...” I ground my hips into him and he moaned softly against my mouth.

“I really do want to go...” 

It wasn’t the answer I was expecting, I stepped back from him, more than a little disappointed. 

“Don’t look at me like that, I’m sorry -” He swept his fingertips gently down my cheek. “If we don’t go...I can’t give you your surprise. And trust me, you are gonna want this surprise.”

My disappointment assuaged and I smirked. “A surprise, eh?”

He nodded his head slowly with that little secretive smirk on his face and one of his dimples popping. How could I not want a surprise from David with him looking at me like that? I kissed him softly, we smoothed our clothes down and a few minutes later we exited the park near the Metropolitan Museum of Art. 

“Ok, how much further?” I was starting to get a cramp in my calf, not to mention being slightly uncomfortable with a flagging semi in my new, form-fitting boxers.

“Not much.” He looked up. “The gallery is at Fifth and 85th.”

I squinted at the sign for the nearest cross street: we were at 81st.

“Ok, I can manage that.”

It felt like we were walking by the museum for an hour – it takes up at least four city blocks, if not more. Once past the museum, David indelicately wiped his forehead on the back of his arm and he fanned his face with his hand.

“I’m fucking schvitzing. Hold on, Patrick.” 

I let him lead me to one of the last food stands still open on the sidewalk. He bought each of us a bottle of water and a small cone of vanilla bean ice cream to share. We sat on a bench, catching our breath, drinking and taking turns licking at the ice cream.   
David caught my eye and my dick twitched fiercely watching him trace his tongue slowly around the perimeter of the cone, up to the top and he closed his pouty lips around the point of it. I shook my head grinning at him with my arm resting on the bench behind his back. He held the cone out to me to take while he licked his lips.

“You’re bad man, David.”

“But I’m so good at it.”

I finished our ice cream and David chugged the rest of my water. Feeling significantly refreshed, we walked the final two blocks to the gallery.

David took my hand again and pulled me across the street. There were a few people having drinks outside, mulling around and looking bored or above it all; too cool to be anywhere. He gave our names at the door and our wrists were marked with a blue fish stamp before we were allowed inside.

My eyes followed their established pattern of travelling upward when we entered the main atrium. The gallery was housed in what must have been a private home at one time. Much of the interior was gutted and reorganized to allow for crowds and established a flow of traffic. I looked up and saw a beautiful stained-glass window depicting white and purple wisteria. 

I was distracted by wondering if the window was Tiffany glass and if so, I wondered how many times over that one window could pay for pretty much everything I owned when I suddenly felt David’s hands squeeze my waist. He smiled at me when I jumped and looked at him.

“I wonder when it’ll stop being so adorable to watch you discover new places, Country Mouse,” he said kissing the side of my neck.

“Hopefully never,” I replied. I reached up to lovingly scrape my nails against the back of his head.

"Mm. Agreed,” he hummed in my ear and licked the spot behind my earlobe. It felt like the temperature of the room jumped up 50 degrees when he gently rutted against me.

“David? David Rose, hey!”

The friendly voice interrupted our discreet PDA and we both looked up. Guy approached us, extending his hand palm down to David. He shook it and they kissed the air beside each other’s cheeks.

“I need to snap a pic of this; David Rose back in New York! I never thought I’d see you again.” 

David looked down at his shoes and I saw him take a deep breath before he spoke. 

“It’s good to see you, Guy.”

“Oh, it’s _Gaetano_ now. Everyone fawns over my mother’s overly romanticized taste in Italian names. David, my love, are you going to Rainier’s party later? He just bought an appalling loft in Tribeca – in excess of seven million – a drop in the bucket for him, I’m sure but...oh, David I’m so sorry to mention money after what you...endured.”

“This is my fiancé, Patrick Brewer.” I could hear from his tone that David’s teeth were set on edge but he was smiling when he put one hand around my waist and I reciprocated.

Guy, ahem, _Gaetano_ nodded curtly in my direction and I swallowed the polite smile I had offered him.  
“Thanks again for the tickets, I was dying to see this. Daisy Ishigawa is everything.” David flicked his wrist to gesture over Guy’s shoulder.

“Oh darling, of course. Happy to do it for you. I made sure to tell everyone that David Rose called to ask me for a favor. I’m sure the arts scene out there is...” He looked up and away from our faces, seemingly searching for the right word.

“Somewhat lacking, yes,” David admitted.

“So, besides getting engaged to the archangel Gabriel himself,” Guy tapped my arm in what I interpreted as a friendly way. “How have you been keeping busy?”

A white-gloved server walked by us and we each took a champagne flute from her tray. I smiled at her in thanks and she started to say something but Guy cleared his throat and dismissed her with the smarmiest facial expression I’ve ever seen. I decided then and there at this person was detestable.

David’s fingertips burrowed into my side while he gave Guy the Cliff’s Notes version of how we’d met, the store and a brief overview of our wedding plans. He seemed to lose some enthusiasm when he noticed that Guy was making less and less effort to pay attention to what David was saying. He kept shifting his attention past us, over our shoulders. I couldn’t tell if he was looking for an escape route from what he considered a boring conversation or if there was something happening behind us that we ought to have been watching as well.

“So, since he’s never been here before, I thought it would be fun to get away for a few days; stop in at Kleinfeld’s and a couple of other places for our wedding wardrobe.”

I felt myself flush when Guy snickered. “Like Men’s Wearhouse?”

David physically deflated in front of me at the comment. My younger, more impulsive self would have loved to throttle Guy. I believed David when he told me there was never anything between the two of them but after meeting him, I was one-hundred-percent sure of it and completely relieved that no part of my fiancé had ever been intimate with this piece of work standing in front of us.

“Well, when you’ve got an amazing body like David’s and when you have his sharp eye for real style,” I looked Guy up and down. “You can buy clothes anywhere and be the sexiest man in the room.” I downed the rest of my champagne and straightened my back defiantly.

I saw David grin in my periphery and he tightened his grip on me. Guy stumbled through saying something before his eyes focused over David’s left side and he waved.

“Enjoy the evening, David. So good to see you,” Guy rushed off without looking at either of us.

“That,” David came around to press his chest against mine and he draped his arms over my shoulders, his fingers delicately caressed my neck. “Was amazing. Ah-mazing. I’ve never seen him shut up so quickly.”  
I leaned forward and kissed him, massaging my fingertips onto his back.

“Nobody gets to fuck with you. Especially not in front of me. He hurt your feelings. I couldn’t knock him out so I shut him up.”

“My hero.” David smiled into another kiss. He stepped back and interlaced our fingers. He pulled me slowly towards the wooden staircase up to the second floor. As we walked leisurely along, David paused a few times so he could examine a piece or explain something to me. I freely admit that I wasn’t completely interested but watching him speak with so much delight on his face about a canvas splattered with splotches of paint that looked like the front of Roland’s shirt after he ate (grown-up Roland, not the baby) was endearing.

Eventually we made it up the stairs. I noticed a distinct odor of chemicals in the air and assumed that meant we were getting closer. A man all in white stood at the entrance to an expansive ballroom. He was handing out paper gowns and blue shoe slipcovers – the kind used in operating rooms…and at crime scenes.

David recoiled when the man tried handing the items to us.

“It is recommended that you wear protective clothing. The gallery will not be held responsible for stained or damaged clothing,” he said sounding bored.

“I’ll take the risk, thanks.” David entered ahead of me.

“While I’m not surprised at your decision,” I said. “I am surprised at how quickly you made it, City Mouse.” I slipped my hand into David’s back pocket and squeezed his ass. He laughed and wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

“Simple calculation, Country Mouse.” David shrugged. “There is a small chance that my clothes will get chemical stains, but there is a 100% certainty that I’d look like a complete jackass wearing that ghastly paper shit.” 

As he said it, we walked by a couple wearing said ghastly paper shit and they both shot a dirty look at David. I mouthed “Sorry” at them, tracing a closed fist against my chest in a clockwise motion – more sign language.

There was a crowd gathered in the center of the room and it should be said that most of them were wearing the paper gowns. The ten-foot-long table they stood around held the tubs of chemicals, the scent of which seemed to be permeating my pores. I saw a petite Japanese woman with long black braids moving rapidly back and forth along the table, moving the photo paper from one tub to the next. A tall, wooden drying rack was almost completely full of grey, dripping paper and even more was on the floor, some ripped into shreds. David was standing next to me for a minute but I felt him pull away to examine the framed and matted prints on the wall behind us. I cocked my head, watching at a safe distance for a minute when I eyed another tray of champagne nearby. I walked over to the server, took a flute and downed it fast. Placing my empty glass back on the tray, I took a second and then a third.

“They’re free, you know – nobody's keeping track.” She smiled.

“Is there anything stronger than this?” I drank half the glass in one sip.

“There’s a bar in the back, down that way,” She tossed her red hair over her shoulder. “That’s where they’re hiding the good stuff.” She winked at me and walked off to hand out the rest of her tray.

I turned around to look for David with the intention of offering him a vodka soda but I couldn’t find him. The room was filling up and the crowd watching the artist at the table was at least six people deep.

I felt more or less indifferent about the photo prints on the wall that I followed in the direction of the bar. I felt like I was trapped at someone’s grandmother’s house with their family reunion pictures being shoved in my face. I thought art photography was supposed to evoke some kind of feeling in the viewer but apparently, I was just too unhip to understand what I was supposed to glean from the array of black and white pictures of a happy couple at holidays and on various vacations.

I found the bar and stood on line facing the crowd, still looking for David. I was more than a little irritated that he had vanished, leaving me completely alone and so far out of my element. I looked back toward the bar and took a step closer.

_I can’t believe this. Where in the ACTUAL fuck is David?! _

I was fuming. A tiny, nearly inaudible, but wholly impossible to ignore voice in the back of my head started to viciously nag at me.

_He took off with someone. _

_He’s off in some dark corner somewhere with somebody. _

_He realized how boring you are. _

_You’ll never be enough for David._

I physically shook my head to eject the disturbing thoughts from my brain. There was just no way any of it was true, David wouldn’t do that to me. Ever. It was just the champagne, waking up my latent insecurities.

All the same, I was supremely pissed at him for ditching me and the longer he was missing, the more upset I was getting. It was finally my turn to order a drink and just as the words 'Crown Royal, neat' were about to leave my mouth, I felt something vibrating against my skin and I almost toppled over. I thought for a second that I’d been electrocuted. I steadied myself by grabbing the edge of the bar but I’d knocked into the woman standing next to me, spilling her drink.

“I am so sorry – I don’t know what - “

The vibrating sensation returned, more intense this time and concentrated directly on my balls.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck?” I said a little louder than I should have.

People nearby stepped away from me like I was nuts. I rejected the urge to adjust myself over my jeans, I was attracting enough attention without grabbing my dick in front of a hundred strangers. The vibrations traveled underneath me and cupped my ass cheeks. I clenched up and took a deep inhale.

As suddenly as it began, the vibrating subsided and I tried to laugh it off; I actually think a few people thought I was a performance artist because they had taken pictures of me, trying to be discreet. I swallowed my embarrassment and ordered a double Crown. Just before I took my first sip, my knees almost gave out when the vibration began again; this time zig-zagging across my shaft slow and teasing.

It felt so fucking good, I was hard almost instantly.  
I nodded my thanks to the bartender and took my drink in my shaking hand, the vibrations now slowly moving in a figure 8 pattern – across and down the shaft of my cock, around my balls and back up to the head again. I rolled my lips inward and bit down to repress the moaning outburst struggling to break free of my throat.

I took a tiny sip and scanned the room, still trying to find David. I jerked my head to the left, catching sight of him leaning against the wall, one foot crossed over the other. His phone was in his hand and he appeared to be texting – I could tell his finger was swiping across the screen. I was more than halfway over to him when I caught onto the motion his finger was making – a figure 8.

He smirked seeing me walking toward him and sure enough, the vibration stopped entirely when he pushed the lock screen button on his phone and put it into his back pocket. I tried to look nonplussed but I was very very plussed. I couldn’t see myself but I knew my face was flushed with arousal. My stride shortened as I got closer. I took a longer sip of my drink and spun around to situate myself right next to David, both of us with our back to the wall.

“Enjoying your night?” David said innocently.

“I know this is your doing – what I don’t know is - “ I growled and gripped his upper arm.

David gasped sharply and fire flashed in his eyes as my fingers dug into his skin.

“Oh - oh my god... David...” I realized what was happening and it was so hot I was ready to knock over all the tubs of photo processing chemicals in the middle of the room, throw him on his back and fuck the living daylights out of him with everyone there watching.

“You are...an asshole and a genius.” I moved in to nibble his neck.

“I take that statement as a compliment, entirely.”  
I pushed my thigh between his legs and sucked a wet spot into his neck while he fisted my shirt.

“Vibrating boxers?” I whispered while tonguing his ear.

“Lovehoney-dot-com's finest. You like?” David’s fingers grasped my belt behind my back and tugged me closer into him.

“I like. I like a lot. There’s just one problem though.”

He tilted his head curiously.

“I am physically incapable of waiting to get back to the room now.” 

As subtly as I could with that many people around, I took one of his hands and put it over the crotch of my jeans. 

“Feel that? You did this to me.”

“Mm. Good. I was hoping you’d say that.” David kissed me hard, his tongue lapped against mine and at the roof of my mouth. “Follow me.” 

Grinning, I sipped my drink and walked behind David out the side door of the ballroom, down a dark hallway and through a door. My eyes took longer than usual to adjust to the darkness but David flicked a lamp on and a low glow illuminated the room. I made out two club chairs, a side table, bookcase and a desk.

“Where are we?” 

“Guy’s office.”

I grunted out a laugh and sank into one of the leather chairs. “You gonna show me how it works?”

David perched himself against the desk, the tips of his shoes a few inches from my own. He raised an eyebrow, taunting me as he pulled his phone from his pocket and clicked the app open. He turned the screen toward me and I saw the general blue outline of a person wearing the boxers I had on. Red-orange lines showed where the hidden cables of vibrating micro technology were sewn into the garment. 

“If I just barely touch my fingertip to it,” David demonstrated gently touching the screen with his pinkie finger. “It’s supposed to buzz lightly.”

I rolled my head back, feeling the soft vibrations up and down my cock.

“The harder I press my finger...” He rolled the full pad of his pointer finger down on the screen.

“Fuuuuck...” I moaned and my ass jerked off the seat.

“And I can move my finger around...”

I covered my face with both hands and moaned louder as the intense sensation traveled all over me. I scratched my nails against my scalp with one hand and opened the button of my fly with the other. Exposing the black fabric for David to see, I beckoned to him with a wiggle of my finger.

“C’mere you.”

David rested his phone on the desk but I shook my head and held my hand out while I kicked my shoes off.

“I want to try something.”

He handed me the phone and I put it on the armrest of the chair. David knelt between my legs and brushed his cheek up and down my leaking cock, mouthing and licking at me. He tucked his fingers into the waistband of my jeans and started pulling them down. I obliged him by lifting my hips so he could pull them off me.

The touch of his palms on the inside of my thighs made me clench up and groan. His skin is sometimes so cold; it feels incredible when I’m that turned on, like he’s running ice cubes against my ultra-sensitive skin.

“Pants off,” I instructed. David opened his mouth to argue but I crossed my arms over my chest. He stood up and I chuckled to myself watching him struggling a little to get them down to his ankles. I held my hand out to him and got him sitting on my lap. He melted back into me and we kissed softly while I caressed his chest and rolled both nipples between my fingers. David moaned into my mouth when I pinched his right nipple.

I pulled away from our kiss and flicked through his phone for his Spotify account. I queued up a song and pressed play.

_Open Sesame (we've places to go)_   
_We've people to see (let's put 'em on hold)_   
_There's all sorts of shapes, that I bet you can make_   
_When you want to escape, say the word_

_Well, I know that getting you alone isn't easy to do_   
_With the exception of you I dislike everyone in the room._

David bit his lower lip and took the hint. He rocked in my lap, rolling his hips into me. I was already hot and bothered but David’s movement was so practiced and perfect I had to concentrate hard to keep myself from cumming. I made sure he was fully occupied with this impromptu lap dance. Keeping the music on, I opened the Lovehoney app and pulled David back while I applied pressure to the screen, in the exact spot where David was sitting. We both moaned and he stiffened up against me.

“Oh my god...” He gasped and whipped his hips back harder into the vibration and my erection. 

_Stop the world 'cause I wanna_   
_Get off, with you..._

“I’m going to fuck you so hard David...” 

I let the phone fall to the floor, pushed David forward, and he caught himself on the edge of the desk. Spitting on my hand, I yanked David’s boxers down and pushed a finger into him. 

“Fuck...” He tossed his head back.

“You want it, don’t you? You little fucking tease. You got me so hot in a room full of people so I would fuck you...”

David didn’t (or couldn’t) voice a reply; he bucked back into me and I spanked him hard. He moaned, sounding desperate when I pulled my finger free of him and grabbed for my jeans on the floor. I’d hidden a sachet of Sliquid in my wallet – I'd gotten a 12 pack as a free gift with purchase from our new favorite sex-site. The exact shape and size of the wet wipes you’d get at a casual, family restaurant, it fit conveniently into one of the empty credit cards slots.

I ripped it open with my teeth. David was facing me, slack jawed and impressed at my level of forethought. Taking his wrist, I squeezed the entire contents of the packet into his hand. 

“Slick me up, Baby.”

David sucked on my lower lip as he pushed my boxers down and stroked my throbbing cock. The lube had only partially warmed to his body temperature and the chills ran through me. When David was satisfied that I was sufficiently prepped, he pushed two of his fingers into himself. His eyebrows knit together and he moaned in pleasure. His lashes fluttered closed and his cherry red swollen lips parted. I saw his tongue dart out to wet the corner of his mouth. 

“I’m ready for you,” his voice was husky and low. The words trembled as they he said them and I groaned; hungry, desperate for him. It was just as hot for him to say it back to me.

Taking David’s hips, I crushed our pelvises together and we kissed frantically, our swollen cocks gifting us with some incredible friction. His little gasps and moans got my blood pumping faster in anticipation. I easily lifted him up to perch on the edge of the desk and he spread his legs open for me. When I was close enough he unbuttoned my shirt, then he hooked a leg around me and using one hand to guide my cock, I pushed into his tight ass. We shuddered and cried out in unison. 

The thrill of watching David’s face when I fucked deep into him was never going to get old.

A thought came creeping into the back of my mind as I snapped my hips as hard as I could.

"Did - did you lock the door?” I gripped David’s neck, pressing my thumb under his collarbone.

“What lock?” He was holding himself up with both arms extended behind him, making a mess of the neatly organized papers on the desk.

I narrowed my eyes at him and he grinned. Slowing my pace, I pulled halfway out of him and rolled my hips in rapid, shallow movements. My crescendo was building, but David was squirming; he wanted every inch of me and I was too happy to deprive him.

“Baby...” David whined. 

He gasped loudly when I wrapped my fingers around his cock and sighed feeling how wet with precum it already was. I thrust my hips harder, embedding myself to the root in David’s ass while I worked his cock like my life depended on getting him off. 

“Fuck yessss...” he hissed and circled his hips against me.

David’s body bucked, his nails gouged into my shoulder and I felt hot cum hit my chest and my hand. His hole clamped tight around me when he came, I didn’t last more than 4 second longer than he did.

“Shit...shit...ughhh, David!”

I was breathing heavy and holding onto him, uncertain if my legs would hold me up when I released my grip. His hair lost all of its shape and flopped lifelessly on his forehead. I brushed it aside, then threaded my fingers through his thick, black locks. Carefully, I pulled out and seeing a roll of paper towels on the bookcase with some cleaning products, I handed a few sheets to David and used a few more to wipe myself off. I was stepping back into my boxers and jeans when David caught my eye and I giggled.

“Are you actually blushing, Country Mouse?” 

“No, I’m not. I was just thinking about what Gaetano is going to have to say about this...” I pointed to the gouge marks in the floor from the legs of the desk; we’d moved it back almost a foot. David noticed the disaster he’d made of the desktop – we'd even knocked over the cups of pens and bronze paper clips and the phone was off the hook. He bit his lower lip smiling wide.

“I wish I could be a fly on the wall when he comes in here...”

“Speaking of which – he could very well come in any minute so...” I waved my hand him indicating that we both needed to hurry up and get the hell out of there.  
Once fully dressed, we held hands and got ready to sneak back out to the hallway. It sounded quiet; if anyone was standing nearby, I didn’t think there was any possibility that we wouldn’t be seen. I started to turn the doorknob when David stopped me.

“What’s wrong?” I whispered.

“My hair! Look at my hair!” He’d caught sight of himself in a mirror.

“David, vanity aside -” I started to argue.

“Patrick, I look like I’ve been fucked hard against a desk.”

I smirked. “Well, I mean, you were...”

He rolled his eyes and returned my smirk. “Yes but, I don’t want to look...”

“Debauched?” I offered.

“Don’t use your fancy vocabulary to distract me! Yes, I look thoroughly debauched and I have to fix this.” He waved both of his hands at his hair and hurried back to the desk. I kept watch at the door while David rifled through the desk drawers. He finally came back over to me to look in the mirror while he applied the pomade he’d found to his hair. He whined and groaned; obviously the product wasn’t up to his standards. After a couple of minutes, his hair was basically back to normal and we exited the office hand in hand.

“So, can we take a look at what we’re actually here to see?” I asked David when we walked back into the ballroom. He squeezed my hand and we fit ourselves into the crowd huddled closely around the table. 

Daisy Ishigawa had been very busy while David and I were away. She’d apparently taken a break from developing pictures and had taken handfuls of the dripping paper and stapled them in different configurations on a five-foot-high plywood wall that was wrapped in burlap. As we positioned ourselves in a spot David deemed to be outside the splash zone, he watched her work the photo enlarger, exposing the photo paper to light and then proceeding to dip it in each tub of chemicals. A few times as the light was on, she swirled what looked like the planchette from a Ouija board over the paper before the light clicked off again.

I cocked my head at the collage on the burlap wall. The strips of ripped paper weren’t arranged randomly, she was definitely building up to something but I couldn’t make it out yet. I thought perhaps it was like those Magic Eye posters from my childhood – you had to stare at it until your vision blurred and an image would pop out at you. Try as I might, that didn’t work.

She built up a stack of prints (in varying shades of grey with no discernible images printed on them) and ripped them into deliberate pieces. She was talking to herself and turned her head this way and that before using a staple gun to attach pieces exactly where she wanted them. There were layers upon layers of wet paper.

An hour passed.

I couldn’t believe how long I stood there watching this but it was like nothing I’d ever seen before. David was watching intently, too. He had his arms crossed and aside from an occasional grunt or a sigh, he didn’t speak. He tapped me with his elbow a couple of times to get my attention and I assumed he was checking to see if I was actually interested or if I was waiting for the opportune moment to jump out of a window. Each time I nodded, smiled and turned my eyes back to the artist.

David had chosen our viewing area very well; we didn’t get any chemicals on our clothes and we were facing the front of her, rather than the back. She had gone through at least six full boxes of paper and was tossing the empty ones over her shoulder without warning or checking to see if the flying cardboard was going to hit someone.

She finished exposing the final sheet and sighed heavily before placing it in the first tub. It was almost ceremonial as she slowly moved down the line, finally placing the sheet on the rack to dry. She started tearing the newest prints and went back to using the staple gun. She fanned the strips out and stapled them again and again. I nudged David with my shoulder and he leaned down to listen without looking away.

“That almost looks like a...”

“Shh...just let it happen...”

I nodded, unoffended, and kept quiet.

With the last strip of paper affixed to the board, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a thick, black felt pen. She considered her creation carefully before she started to methodically draw an outline over the strips. It soon became obvious that I had rightly identified what she had been creating with the paper, a peacock, and my chest puffed out a little with pride – I got it, I was hip after all. Sounds of recognition rippled through the crowd as people around us recognized what she was drawing.

She put the finishing touches on the peacock drawing, she stretched her arms above her head. Her hands and long sleeves were stained. She turned to face her captivated audience and put the cap back on the marker. She looked up and nodded her head at someone out of view and the lights went out – the room was in pitch blackness. I grabbed onto David; this was fucked.

Suddenly loudspeakers blasted us all with an audio clip from a movie. I recognized the actor’s unmistakable voice and the movie the quote was from. It repeated three more times.

"Vanity: definitely my favorite sin."

Just as suddenly as they’d gone out, some of the lights came back on and a projector was shining on the wall, a quote in red block letters that was equal parts appropriate and ominous.

He who denies his own vanity usually has it in so brutal a form that he must shut his eyes in order to avoid despising himself.

“Is that Sartre?” A woman standing next to David asked her husband.

“No, Nietzche,” David replied.

It wasn’t until that point that anybody noticed Daisy Ishigawa was nowhere to be seen.

Someone started a spontaneous round of applause and we spread out to talk about what we’d just experienced. I held David’s hand and we examined the framed prints on the opposite side of the room. These had a decidedly different tone than the “happy couple” photos I’d seen earlier. They were mostly self-portraits, (I now recognized the woman in the photos was the artist herself). She photographed herself in various degrees of distress and the last one at the end of the wall looked very much like it had been taken at a long distance through bushes; one of those telephoto lenses paparazzi use– the man she’d clearly spent many happy times with was with a new woman in a loving embrace. Once I connected all of the dots and understood the narrative of the pictures, it really broke my heart.

We left the gallery about 45 minutes later still holding hands, our fingers tightly interlaced. David stroked the back of my hand with his thumb as we walked with no particular agenda. I wasn’t ready to go to bed – my adrenaline was still pumping from the exhibit. I looked at my watch.

“How is it only 8 o'clock? Weren’t we in there for like, twelve hours?”

David pursed his lips. “You hated it that much?”

“What? No! That was incredible David! I’ve never seen anything like that in my life, I loved it!”

The right side of his lips curled up into a grin, I put my arms around him and we kissed.

“What are you thinking about?” I asked, still holding him. 

“Want to gate crash that party in Tribeca?”

Now I was the one grinning. “You know what? Now that you mention it, I don’t think I’ve ever seen a seven-million-dollar loft.”

David jerked his head back and we headed for the nearest subway station.

Once aboard the 5 train, I realized two things: how much faster we would have gotten to the club the night before if we had stayed on the subway and exactly why David wanted to avoid taking the subway. The car was pretty full and the b.o. was palpable so we stood as far away from other riders and held on (while breathing through our mouths) until two seats directly behind us opened up. David checked his watch.

“Just a couple more minutes.” He squeezed my knee.

I stood up when David did and we waited by the doors so we’d get off the train as soon as we could. The Chambers Street station was dingy but didn’t smell nearly as bad as I was expecting. As we got to the stairs, we passed a tile mural of the Brooklyn Bridge.

Back above ground, I was relieved to fill my lungs with cooler air.

“So, how do we find this appalling loft?” I linked my arm with David’s and we started walking.

“If I know Rainier, it’ll be pretty obvious.”

And holy shit, was he right.

We turned a corner onto West Broadway and I could already hear the music. I looked at David and he was smirking; he closed his eyes and shook his head. A short time later, we turned again onto Warren Avenue and my jaw dropped open. There were actual search lights in front of the building. They were the kind of oscillating lights you’d expect to see at an awards ceremony or the premiere of a Hollywood blockbuster. A Maybach and then a Maserati slowed to a stop in front of the building and we watched people step out of the back doors and check in with the door guy before both cars drove off.

“We’re going there?” I asked, still not believing any of what I was seeing. “No wonder you teased me about my lame-ass idea for the housewarming party.” If this was the type of life David preferred, the kind of life he strived to have again...what in the hell was he doing with me? 

“It wasn’t a lame-ass idea. This is obnoxiously over the top, even for Rainier.” David waved his hand dismissively. He stopped walking and put both hands on my shoulders.

“This isn’t my life anymore, Patrick. You’re my life. You, the store. That’s all I want. Maybe a condo or a house someday. I’m happy, I’m content...aren’t you?” He knit his eyebrows together, looking concerned as my heart melted.

I cupped his cheek. “I want you to have everything.” His smile began in his eyes and he kissed me softly.

“All I’m missing is a certain piece of jewelry,” He flashed his left ring finger at me. “Other than that, I have everything I want.”

I cocked a suspicious eyebrow at him.

“Ok, fine. I _really_ want a bigger closet. Wedding ring and bigger closet, then I’ll have everything I want.”

I laughed and smoothed my hands up and down his back, pulling him closer into a tight hug.

“I love you, Country Mouse.”

“Love you more, City Mouse.”

I kissed his neck as we released each other and he took my hand.

“How do we get in?” I nodded towards the door guy.

“Ok, so, the first rule is to look bored. Look like you’re so annoyed with everything that you can’t even believe you bothered to come to this little...gathering.” He flicked his wrist dismissively between us and the front door of the building.

“I can handle that but... geez, David - are you sure you’ll be able to pull that off? I can’t imagine...”

“Ass.”

“Try to pretend that you don’t want it,” I sassed back and winked at him.

I did my best impression of the expression on David’s face whenever Roland is speaking as we walked past the doorman who pointed to the private elevator that would take us up to the penthouse. I knew I wasn’t doing anything illegal but my heart was thumping like we’d be immediately found out and tossed off the balcony.

I pursed my lips and David looked at me questioningly.

“There wasn’t a list – shouldn't there be like, a guest list or whatever?”

“Eh. I guess we look like we belong here.”

The elevator door opened and the music blasted me in the face before I could reply. There were groups of bored-looking beautiful people scattered around the apartment. Somehow, even with at least 75 people mulling around, the white carpets were pristine – the other guests clearly hadn’t gotten here via the subway.

“Come on, let’s find the bartender,” David spoke loudly in my ear and pulled me along the perimeter towards the kitchen. A proper bar, not just a tea cart with an assortment of half-full liquor bottles (or god forbid – a keg) was set up near one set of doors that lead out to the patio. The walls on that entire side of the room were floor to ceiling windows with a literally breathtaking view of the city. I saw the Woolworth Building, One World Trade Center and in the distance, the Brooklyn Bridge; all illuminated and shining gloriously against the darkening sky.

David bumped my arm with his elbow and handed me a drink.

“Let’s take a look around.”

I never felt so out of place in my life. I know David lovingly called me “Country Mouse,” he still does and I love it, but being in that apartment was the first time I actually felt like an out-of-place country mouse in a room full of city mice. A couple of people gave me a quick up and down glance but nobody looked even remotely interested in being there.

We entered each of the three bedrooms and I noticed the absence of light switches – the lights must have had motion sensors on them because as soon as we walked in, the lights flicked on and adjusted to just the right level of brightness for the time of day.

David paused outside one of the bathrooms (there were at least three and a half) and kissed me on the cheek.

“BRB,” he said and shut the door. I leaned against the wall and waited for him.

“Oh my god – Becca, do you even know who I just thought of?” A man’s voice with Alexis’s familiar vocal fry made my ears prickle. A second voice replied. They were around the corner so I couldn’t see them but I could hear their conversation.

“Who?"

“Do you remember David Rose?” 

Now I was really paying attention.

“Holy shit, Rainier – what made you think of him? I haven’t seen him in ages. His parties were legendary,” Becca replied.

“Weren’t they though?! He was such a fucking fox. He always had the best everything; food, drugs – everything.”

“The best E. Hands down. Whatever happened to him?”

“_Biiiitch_ \- you don’t know?!” 

I listened to a mostly accurate recounting of what had happened to David’s family – a few of the details weren’t quite right and I took complete exception to the glee in our host’s voice as he callously talked about the whole ordeal. Even if I wouldn’t have met the love of my life if it didn’t happen, it was still awful for Mr. Rose to lose absolutely everything he’d built. 

“Ugh. Can you like, imagine? What if you woke up tomorrow like, totally poor?” Rainier exclaimed. 

“I’d fucking jump. Seriously. I’m not joking. Like, did David die?”

“I dunno. I like, deleted his number. I mean, he wasn’t going to have any more parties or whatever so like...”

“Yeah, what’s the point?”

My blood boiled at that last bit but I kept my cool and sipped my drink. Unless the name ‘Rainier’ was common in this group of people, (not totally out of the question but...) I was essentially trespassing in his apartment so it wouldn’t be wise to confront him about what he’d said about David. I finished my drink just as David left the bathroom.

“What? What’s the face?” David looked at me sideways.

“Nothing. It’s hot in here, let’s go outside.”

Once on the balcony, I felt better. There were fewer people outside and therefore much easier to relax. David went to the outdoor bar and brought back two more drinks and a plate of appetizers for us to pick at. I was looking out at the city with my hands gripping the balcony railing. David came up behind me and put his hands on mine, kissing my neck as he leaned down.

“There’s a hot tub around the corner,” he whispered. “Interested?”

“I don’t have my bathing suit,” I rested the back of my head on his shoulder.

“Who said anything about bathing suits?”

I turned and looked at him absolutely loving the devilish expression on his face. All the same, I raised an eyebrow.

“The view is blocked by huge potted plants. Seriously – nobody will see.”

I bit my lip and nodded. I didn’t like how Rainier talked about David – the least thing I could do was to go skinny dipping his hot tub. I let David lead the way and he had undersold how secluded the hot tub was. If you looked from most angles, the pots were almost up to my waist and plants with their giant leaves looked like they marked the edge of the balcony and there wasn’t anything behind them other than the railing.

The jets were turned on and I dipped my hand in the water – hot, as expected, but perfect. We giggled quietly as we stripped down to our underwear. David got in first and pressed his back against the jets with a sigh.

I was about to get in after him when I realized that there were electrical wires in my boxer briefs. I knew they had to be waterproof – they'd eventually need to be washed but – was the water in a hot tub hotter than a washing machine? Hotter than a dryer? I pursed my lips and while I probably would have been fine, I pushed them down to my ankles, folded them neatly and slipped them under the neat pile of my other clothes.

David was smirking at me as I sank into the water sat next to him. In spite of no one being able to see us, we had a spectacular view of the skyline and all the lights of the city. David lifted his arm around my shoulders and pulled me in for a kiss.

Almost immediately, the kiss got downright filthy. The music was loud and nobody knew we were there so we made no effort to be quiet. The wet sound of our tongues and the guttural moans we were making couldn’t be heard over the sounds of the party. David pushed himself to the center of the tub and pulled me over to straddle him. With my feet against the bottom of the tub, I held onto David’s shoulders and rolled my hips against his dick. His eyes grew wide and then snapped shut as his head lolled back and he moaned.

“This is cruel...you fucking tease...” he said, grabbing my ass in both hands. I kept grinding on him, luxuriating in the feeling of his cock getting hard against me.

“Who says I’m teasing?” I whispered, biting my lip.

“Oh yeah? Should I get on my knees?” He cupped my cheek with one hand and stroked my cock with the other.

I shook my head and pulled the tip of his cock out of the waistband of his boxers.

“I want this big, beautiful thing,” I tightened my grip around him. “As deep inside me as you can get it. I want it. I need it.”

David groaned and dragged his nails down my back, encouraging me to start grinding on him again. I braced myself, holding onto the side of the tub and made slow circles with my hips. David’s eyes just about fell out of his head while he was watching. His eyes flashed and soon he was gyrating against me.

He took hold of me behind my back and yanked me up until our chests collided and a splash of water hit us both in the face. I started moving up and down on top of him, feeling his cock so close but maddeningly far from where I needed it to be.

“Patrick...” he moaned into my mouth.

“You like that? You want me to ride you, David?”

“Jesus, Jesus...” 

I held onto him with my fingers interlaced behind his neck and David wiggled free of his boxers. I knelt and David lined himself up with my hole.

“I don’t want to hurt you...” His chest was heaving.

“It doesn’t hurt David. It feels so good. Please...” I was struggling not to whine. 

He groaned and my breath caught in my throat when he thrust the head of his cock inside me. I loosened my grip around his neck and pressed myself down on top of him. There was a lot more resistance than I was fully prepared for but my body responds to David with amazing obedience. After a few pumps of his hips, I was able to relax.

The water was splashing over the sides of the hot tub as I took every inch of David’s cock. I was getting lightheaded from the heat and the intensity of the experience. He bit my chest, leaving deep teeth marks, then eased the pain by sliding his tongue over the spot. With a fist full of his hair I held his head still and pushed my tongue into his mouth so he could suck on it.

“I’m gonna cum...Shit...Patrick...I’m...” David started gasping, his face red and his eyes darker than usual.

“Cum in me Baby...fill my ass up...” I crushed our lips together and David grabbed both of my shoulders as he shuddered again and again.

Swallowing hard and struggling to catch our breath, we pressed our foreheads together and our kisses became soft, sweet and chaste to starkly contrast damn near everything we’d done since I opened my eyes that morning.

“How...how...” David’s lips rolled inward and he bit down on them. I gently lifted myself off of him and pushed back against the hot tub wall.

“How what?” I plugged my nose and ducked my head under the surface of the water. When I came back up, I raked my hands through my hair and shook my head, sending droplets flying in every direction like a shaggy dog after a bath.

“How did I ever enjoy sex before I met you?” He grinned and pulled his boxers back on.

We chuckled at each other.

“Sorry,” David bit his lip.

“For...?”

“I didn’t get you off. I feel selfish.”

I shrugged. “I’ll take an IOU. I’m sure you’ll make it up to me.” 

He cocked an eyebrow at me. “Oh I know exactly how to make it up to you. Should we like...get out of here?” I gestured towards our clothes.

“Yeah, I guess we’re sort of pushing our luck, huh?” 

David slowly stood up and I followed suit. I saw panic flash on his face when he realized that he was never going to be able to get his pants back on if his legs were wet – they were just too tight.

“David, look! Towels!” For some reason, I said it _sotto voce_. A bamboo table on the opposite side of the tub had a generous display of soft, white towels. 

We dried off and I still couldn’t believe that no one caught us. Every time our eyes met, we winked at each other or laughed. I kissed the back of David’s hand and told him about the conversation I’d overheard when he was in the bathroom. I couldn’t read his reaction and at first I regretted bringing it up. Finally redressed and somewhat presentable, David took my hand and whistled casually as we went back inside. We were halfway across the living room, almost out the front door, home free when we heard:

“Is that David Rose?”

We froze and David squeezed my hand. He exhaled and turned around. 

“Hi Rainier,” David waved. “Great place. Love the view,” he squeezed my hand.

“David...hi...um...how....what...?” Rainier stuttered.

“Really can’t stay, must be off. SO good to see you. It’s so good to see all of you.” David’s eyes scanned the entire crowd “Becca! Hey! I didn’t recognize you. I’ve gotta ask something: who's going to be paying for your next rehab stay now that I’m not an option? Oh, and I must have missed all of your calls and messages of concern when my life fell apart. Cell service is kind of shaky out in the boondocks. I’m much better now though; life is good. Really good. Rainier, this is Patrick, my fiancé and we just fucked in your hot tub.”

I waved awkwardly holding back a belly laugh. David looked nothing short of victorious as we walked out of the party and got back into the elevator. 

“’This is Patrick and we just fucked in your hot tub?’ David, that was fucking awesome.” I doubled over laughing. 

“Fucking snobs. I’m almost embarrassed that I used to be like those people. Ugh.” David wiggled his body like he was trying to shake off a bug. A second later my arms were around him.

“Well you’re mine now, City Mouse,” I kissed him.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way, Patrick.”

We took a cab back to the hotel and David made sure to ask the driver to stop at Grey’s Papaya on the way. I waited in the backseat while he ordered and I choked back laughter when he returned carrying a paper bag so large I couldn’t believe all he had in it were hot dogs.

He handed a second, smaller bag to the driver, who had asked David to grab him something called a “Recession Special.” I took the cardboard tray of two large drinks and the driver’s medium soda.

“What’s all this?” I looked in the bag.

“Two Addicted Specials; three dogs each and pineapple juice,” he winked at me.

I’m not normally a huge fan – but those were the best goddamned hot dogs I’ve ever eaten and David wasn’t exactly subtle with our drink orders but the pineapple juice was ice cold, not too sweet and absolutely delicious.

We got back up to the room and lounged around lazily in pajamas watching TV, talking and enjoying the view of the skyline from our balcony until I suggested that we turn in.

“I wanna be the big spoon,” David said sleepily.

I shrugged and obliged him, enjoying how perfectly our bodies locked together and how soft his bare skin was against mine.

“Long day tomorrow, Country Mouse,” David said, kissing me behind my ear.

“Can’t wait to see you in a tux,” I said as I closed my eyes.

“I can’t wait for the pineapple juice to kick in,” David squeezed me closer to him.

As tired as I was, that particular comment made my eyes pop open. A 32 oz pineapple juice was coursing through each of us and all I could think about was how fucking good David was going to taste in the morning. 

“Patrick? Country Mouse – rise and shine.”

I peeked my left eye open and was surprised to see the morning sunshine blaring in from the window. David put a cup of steaming tea on the nightstand beside me and I sat up, warming my hands with the mug.

I yawned and arched my back, feeling some pressure release in my spine.

“It’s early,” I commented before taking a sip of my tea.

“I’ve been up for a while,” David commented.

“Oh, you couldn’t sleep?” I replaced my mug on the nightstand and stretched my arms over my head before I got out of bed. 

“Oh, I slept fine. I’ve just been um...a little busy,” David said mysteriously.

I slid my arms around his waist and pulled him into my chest for a long kiss.

“Take your pants off,” his lips vibrated against mine.

“Huh?”

David chewed the inside of his cheek and sank down to his knees, pulling my pajama pants past my ass and got the fly of my boxers open with one hand and his teeth.

“Oh...” I moaned a little and watched wide-eyed while David slowly licked my cock.

“Mm,” he hummed. “I have a surprise for you.”

“I’ll bet you do,” I chuckled and ran my fingers through his hair.

David rubbed his stubbly cheek against my cock while looking at me as if he would devour me whole if he could. I’d always heard that the male libido slows down after 35 but apparently David hadn’t gotten that memo. We enjoyed a very healthy, active and deeply satisfying sex life but I don’t think we’d gone multiple times a day since we’d first moved in together. Vacation sex is the best.

He kissed and licked my cock while he looked up at me with those seductive fucking eyes that had me completely captivated and under his control, even when I had him bound and gagged on our bed, completely helpless with an eight inch dildo in his ass. He owns me and don’t think for a second that he doesn’t know it.

“So, what’s my surprise?” I teased him with my hands on my hips. 

“It’s in the bathroom. Get naked, I’ll be right back.” 

As groggy as I felt when I woke up, I was intrigued and wide awake when I watched David rise from his knees and wink at me before he turned for the bathroom. I stretched my arms over my head and slipped out of my clothes and settled back into the center of the bed. I crossed my ankles and waited for him.

David was naked when he stepped out of the bathroom and was hiding something behind his back. I incorrectly thought it might have been a new vibrator (we have a modest collection of them at home).

“Whatcha got there, Babe?” I asked, sitting up.

David fought back against his dimples but they both made an appearance in spite of his best efforts to not smile. He stalked around to his nightstand and opened the drawer, pulling out a larger bottle of lube with a pump top. He blew me a kiss and showed me what he’d been hiding from me. 

Now, I’ll be honest, I was a little confused and even a little let down seeing the clear silicone sleeve in his hand. I cocked my head.

“The hell is that?”

“Patience, please, Country Mouse.” David’s eyes sparkled with mischief. 

He settled in next to me and cradled the back of my head as he kissed me deeply. Our eyes closed, our tongues circling each other. I felt his hand run down my chest. He bypassed my dick and gently caressed the inside of my thigh with the fingertips of his perfectly manicured nails. 

He pulled his lips away from mine and I whimpered a little; no amount of time spent kissing David was ever enough. 

“I think you’re really going to enjoy this one,” he placed a series of soft kisses down my torso.

“Mmm...” I arched my back off the bed and watched him take my cock between his beautiful lips.

I whined again when he stopped and my skin felt cold; bereft of the heat from his wet mouth.

David knelt up and squirted two pumps of lube into the silicone sleeve and squeezed it to spread it around the entire length of the tube. I watched, intrigued and it slowly dawned on me.

“Come here,” David asked sweetly, gesturing with a curled finger.

We wiggled to the center of the bed together and he kissed me again. He cupped my balls and squeezed gently, making my gasp into his mouth.

“Shh... easy Baby...” 

I wrapped my arms around his neck and the kiss got hot and wet. When David pushed the silicone tube around my shaft, the kiss got filthier. It felt strange at first, then it stretched enough and was deliciously tight on me. I gasped and moaned in surprise when he started jerking my cock. The lube warmed to my skin temperature and there were unexpected nubs on the inside that just blew my mind.

“Feel good, Country Mouse?”

“Mmm...uh...uh-huh...” I gripped him harder and snapped my hips into his hand.

“It’s about to feel better. Slow down a little. Wait for me.”

“Wait for what?” I was panting.

I watched David’s eyes widen as he inserted his cock in the sleeve at the opposite end.

“Oh god...” He kissed me. “Go slow...”

It took a couple of tries for us to coordinate a rhythm but once we were in sync, my world changed. My vision blurred. My knees weakened. The lubricated stroker created suction; like David and I were simultaneously getting head from the same mouth.   
I’d never felt anything like it. I held onto David’s waist and rolled my hips forward while he sucked on my neck. He reached behind my back and slapped my ass hard.

“Mm that’s so good...fuck...” I dug my fingertips into his skin.

“I’m gonna cum Patrick,” His nails scratched my lower back. “Oh my...god...fuck...”

I can’t quite describe the intensity of feeling David explode against the head of my cock; his cum flooding around me. I don’t know how I didn’t lose all control when his face took on that incredible flush and his eyes rolled back. He fell forward against me and if I didn’t catch him in my arms, he might have dragged me down to the mattress with him.

“Almost there, Baby. Stay with me...” I groaned and thrust my hips faster. David sank his teeth into my shoulder and I came almost instantly. With me, David knows that a little bit of pain goes a long way. 

With our bodies still connected, we held each other and flopped to the side against the pillows, kissing softly while we came down. He rubbed the faint teeth marks he’d left me with and the pain dulled quickly.

“Remind me to comp Stevie’s wine purchases for the next...decade,” I hummed into David’s neck and eased myself out of the sleeve, pinching the open end to avoid the mess inside spilling. It was slightly wider in the center and our cum pooled there when David pulled out. My brain went completely off line and I swear I heard the buzzing and squealing of a dial-up modem in my ear when David circled his tongue around the opening, tasting us.

“Mmm. Remind me to double the order of organic pineapple juice when we get home. Yummy.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and held out my hand, asking for the toy. He smirked and handed it to me. I maintained eye contact as I touched the tip of my tongue to one open end and pushed it inside. Slowly the puddle started flowing over my taste buds and I let my eyelashes flutter.

David’s breathing grew shallow and he massaged his own deltoids with his arms cross protectively over his chest.

“You’re right. This is yummy.” I seductively licked my lips.

David groaned and raised his eyes to the ceiling.

“Sorry, David,” I said blinking innocently. “Too early?”

He chuckled. “Oh no. It’s never too early for a little cumplay.”

The word made my heart beat faster. He often said things intended to make me blush but David’s Country Mouse wasn’t so easily scandalized anymore. I cocked an eyebrow at him and while is eyes grew bigger, I tilted the sleeve up letting our mingled juices drip onto my tongue. He licked his mouth and bit his lower lip so hard I thought he might make himself bleed. 

I pushed the envelope a little more. Smirking at David, I tilted my head and let the cum dribble onto my chest. He growled at me, sounding like an actual caged animal.

“Oops. I guess I’m a clumsy Country Mouse,” I winked.

“You’re going to be the literal death of me,” David covered his face and flopped down sideways on the bed.

I chuckled softly and put the toy down behind my back as I settled down next to him, resting my head against my fist. David peeked through gaps in his fingers and I made show of tracing my fingers through the puddle on my chest. He groaned again and I looked up.

“Are you gonna leave me like this? All...dirty?” 

He rolled his eyes and I distinctly saw his right dimple before he pounced on top of me.

“I fucking love you,” he said into my neck. The cum spread out all over our chests as we rolled back and forth across the bed. We ended up laying on top of the toy, well, David was on top of the toy and I was on top of him. The rest of the contents got squeezed out under our weight. 

I made him cum again with my hand and while he was still shaking, I jerked off on his stomach. We kissed lazily until the alarm on my phone started to buzz.

“I don’t want to move – can we stay in bed all day?” I asked, nuzzling his chin with my nose.

“As good as that sounds,” he kissed my forehead. “This is gross.” He wiped the sticky palm of his hand on my shoulder.

“I guess we should hose off, huh?” I laughed.

“And we have to go to our appointment,” he reminded me.

“Right. Tuxes,” I had legitimately forgotten about it.

“I can’t wait to see you all dressed up.” David kissed the tip of my nose and got off the bed, padding to the bathroom. He flicked the light on and beckoned me to him with a wiggle of his finger.

“I thought I would just wear jeans, white sneakers and one of those t-shirts with a tuxedo printed on it.” To say that David shrieked after I said that would not be an overstatement.

“I’m kidding, Babe. Nobody’s going to be looking at me though. It really doesn’t matter what I wear.”

David shook his head at me and circled his arms around my neck. “You,” he began. “Need to stop talking about yourself like you don’t matter. I admit it – I think you look sexy in t-shirts and basketball shorts,” he gulped and fake gagged. “But on our wedding day,_ I_ am going to be looking at you and you’re going to look amazing.”

“That would be really romantic if I wasn’t covered in load right now,” I joked.

“EW!” He teasingly pushed me away and I walked past him into the bathroom to turn on the shower.

We made it in time for our appointment and just as I did the night before at the extravagant loft with David’s old crowd, I felt completely out of place in the opulent store. A woman in a black pantsuit handed us glasses of champagne when we checked in.

“And what time is the bride joining you?” She didn’t look up at us from the computer screen and her fingers tapped away at lightning speed as she typed.

“Excuse me?” David had started raising the champagne flute to his lips when she asked the question.

“The bride, sir. We run a tight ship here, if she’s going to be much later than ten minutes, I suggest you reschedule.”

We looked at each other and David rolled his eyes when I offered him a tight smile.

“Um, the appointment is for us. It’s _our_ wedding. There is no bride,” David’s neck turned slightly red and his words were drawn taut as a bow string. She finally stopped typing and looked at us, David scoffed and put his free hand on my shoulder, as if to give her a non-verbal clue to her heterocentric faux pas.

“Oh. Whoops. I’m very sorry,” her wide eyes looked down to a clipboard. “Mr. Rose, Mr. Brewer,” she addressed me as ‘Mr. Rose’ and David as ‘Mr. Brewer’ but I appreciated the effort anyway. She stepped around the desk and motioned that we should follow her. She rushed through another apology before opening the door to our “consultation suite" and said we should wait there for our “glamour concierge”.

We sat side by side on a comfortable enough chair – one of those “chair and a half" things, and David flipped through the pages of a bridal magazine. I started dicking around on my phone while the time ticked by. 

Much to my relief, we were eventually greeted by a friendly younger woman who didn’t once question where the bride was. 

“Good morning! I’m Desiree, can I get you some more champagne?” 

Like the uppity one at the front desk, she was wearing a black pantsuit, black flats and simple makeup. Unlike the uppity one at the front desk, Desiree had a friendly face with rosy, round cheeks and looked us both in the eye when she spoke to us. 

“I’m fine, Babe?” I nodded to David.

“Actually, any chance for a mimosa?” David questioned. She smiled and nodded as she backed out of the room quickly. She returned with David’s drink and she sat in the chair opposite us, ready to talk. I mostly stayed quiet, aside from the occasional laugh or grunt of agreement as David gave her the full run down of his aesthetic “vision” for the wedding. He rattled off names of designers at lightning speed. She nodded and jotted down a few notes on a flip pad as he spoke.

Unexpectedly, he turned to me and put a hand on my wrist.

“So, that’s me. Now for Patrick...”

He continued talking and I didn’t catch any of it. I like watching David talk about things with this level of intricacy and enthusiasm. I interlocked my fingers over my stomach and crossed my legs, waiting for David to finish.

“You don’t say much huh?” 

It took me a minute to realize she was talking to me.

“Hmm? Oh,” I blushed. “This part is completely out of my depth. I just want to marry him, whatever he wants us to wear is fine with me.”

“Well that’s amazing,” she said it to both of us but her comment was for David’s benefit.

“He is,” we answered at the same time and Desiree literally looked like she might slide off her chair. She playfully fanned herself.

“Ok. I think I have enough to go on. Just relax here for a bit. The restroom is down the hall to the left if you need it. If you’d like another drink, just press this buzzer,” she indicated a brass button by the door. “And a runner will bring it to you.”

David and I both smiled at her as she closed the door behind her to give us some privacy. I rested back and stretched my arms over my head. David knew exactly what I was doing and he cuddled into my chest. 

“We’re really doing this. We’re getting married,” I said, pressing my lips to his temple.

“I had a silly idea,” David’s cold fingers slipped under the hem of my shirt. 

“Did you now?”

“Yeah. I thought that, since we're here, on a little vacation…I thought we could go to City Hall and get married before we go home.”

I laughed until David looked up at me. 

“Is that a no?” He asked.

“What about the wedding we have been planning?”

“Oh, we could still have that. I just thought,” Desiree knocked on the door, interrupting him. She’d returned faster than either of us expected. 

“Ok so,” she pulled a two-tiered wheeled clothing rack behind her.

“I think you'll find what you're looking for here. David, you were so specific with your ideas, it really helped me curate a solid collection here for you.”

David jumped up from our seat to see what Desiree brought for us. He reverently ran his hands down the sleeves of two jackets.

“These on top are for you, David and – no pun intended – the pieces on the bottom are for you,” she told me. 

“Oh my god, Country Mouse come here! Feel this fabric!” David waved me over practically hopping up and down. I walked over and kissed his neck while he took my hands and put them on a jacket. I raised an eyebrow, impressed.

“Wow. Very nice, City Mouse.”

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Desiree cover her mouth, concealing a smile. 

“What?” I smiled and probably blushed a little.

“No, nothing, “ she shook her head. “ I see a lot of couples every week and I’ve gotten pretty good at spotting the 'Forever Factor' that some couples unfortunately don't have. You guys have it. You're the real deal.”

David nuzzled my cheek with the tip of his nose and a minute later, Desiree excused herself to let us try on our tuxes. I picked the first one I tried on. I liked the cut, the fabric and the way David bit his lip and seemed to be rendered temporarily deaf when he first looked at me in it.

He tried on eight tuxes before deciding on the second one. I humored him, pretending to notice the differences he pointed out while he examined himself critically in the three angle mirror. 

So there we stood, three feet apart in our selected (and shockingly on budget) tuxedos and we started giggling like kids. Desiree knocked on the door and David told her it was safe to come in.

“Wow, I’m good,” she crossed her arms. “I knew you'd pick these! You both look incredible.”

“Yeah, Country Mouse, you do look very handsome,” David said, suddenly struck shy. 

"I like the Burberry on you, City Mouse. Very nice." I replied.

“Let me ask you something, “ Desiree reached into her pocket. “Do you always call each other ‘mouse'?”

We shared a look and started giggling again. 

“Yeah, it’s sort of our thing,” I replied.

“Well, don’t feel pressured but these came in _ages_ ago and I couldn’t let you leave here without showing them to you.

She held out her hand and opened a black velvet jewelry box. When we saw the contents, I grabbed at David’s hand and we threaded our fingers together. Two pairs of 24 karat gold and enamel cuff links; one set of black mice, one set of white.

“We'll take them,” David said, resting his chin on my shoulder. 

We wore our cuff links at the wedding and years later, we still take them out of the box in my sock drawer and wear them on special occasion.

For the record, we did _not _honeymoon in Puerto Rico.

The world can be a frustrating, unfair, frightening, divided, and uncertain place but in Schitt’s Creek, David Rose, my husband, my City Mouse, and I are living happily ever after.

**Author's Note:**

> I've been writing fics for a long, long time but I've never had the sort of reader response the I got from The Mice Will Play. It was fantastic, it was uplifting and it was humbling.  
I pulled out all the stops I could think of for y'all on this one and I hope it lives up to the original.
> 
> Call_me_Tina_B - half of the credit goes to you, your prompt got it started :)
> 
> Can't wait to hear what you think!!
> 
> xo gigi


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